Eleven Years
by Mucada
Summary: . Eleven years where five were marked with distance as well. Eleven years was an example of two people knowing each other like they knew no one else, where time and distance meant nothing but nostalgia and deeper love. RLNT


title: Eleven Years author: Mucada rating: PG disclaimer: c JKR summary: . Eleven years where five were marked with distance as well. Eleven years was an example of two people knowing each other like they knew no one else, where time and distance meant nothing but nostalgia and deeper love. A/N: Kind of AU, takes place in the future, and is plotless. The idea is that Remus and Tonks haven't seen each other for a while. He's away, but why, you can decide for yourself. Enjoy. 888 

April, 2007

"_I'm listening to that Joni Mitchell you told me about. She's so dreadfully you. I bet you were unbearable when you were younger, just as you are now."_

He laughed out loud. He would have to remind her when she wore her hair pink. He would have to try not to admit he loved it at the same time. He smiled sadly in spite of himself, leaning back on the bench and feeling the soft paper in his hands. Running his fingers against the indented words her pen made, he wished she was with him. Simply said. He took his notebook from his bag and began to write with a pen, like the one she used that left an impression on the paper.

Nostalgia was entwined with his desperate feelings of displacement. New York was different from London; it smelt different and acted different. The neighborhoods were different. He never knew he could miss a place as bad as he missed London. He twirled the plastic pen around his thumb. He never knew he could miss pretending to be young with Tonks. Neither were really young these days though, and they were both growing old in different ways and in different cities.

_"Let's be serious, just for a minute. About ten years have gone by. We've known each other for that long."_ Eleven, he thought, silently agreeing. They had over a decade between them, but he didn't think it felt like age, rather a testament of friendship where time played a key part in the relationship. Eleven years where five were marked with distance as well. Eleven years was an example of two people knowing each other like they knew no one else, where time and distance meant nothing but nostalgia and deeper love.

_"I finally felt old today, when I turned my hair pink this morning and thought it looked hideous. Was it always that bad? I remember thinking I was wild with that hair, now I pale at the thought of it. I think I'm getting old, Remus." _

He folded her letter and placed it in his notebook next to his unfinished one. He stood up, exited Riverside Park, and walked across the silent street, passing parked cars and dog-walkers. Broadway was busy as usual, Amsterdam the same. Quiet and loud were not the same in New York: London held something different that reminded the world of its age. He and Tonks and the world were getting old, and New York wasn't. He had to let it go.

June, 2007

"_Can you swear you'll return? I promise I'll listen to your music and drink tequila shots with you under Molly's kitchen table on New Year's."_

Muggle transportation caused him inner conflict. He hated it, but appreciated it at the same time. They liked the tube and the Underground because they thought it was fast. He though it slow, but liked it just the same. Rather, he liked thinking it of slow when everyone thought it was fast. Magical superiority.

He exited the Underground and felt suddenly lost. The street was busy, but not like New York. Today in London he felt displaced. From his bag he removed a stack of aging envelops held together by paperclips and a rubber band. They weren't in order, and since the return addresses were sometimes different, he had to check the time stamp from the postal service. He found last month's. Kensington. He couldn't help but feeling impressed.

He hailed a cab and gave the street, sinking into the bouncy leather cushions. Only about ten minutes pasted when the cab stopped on the corner of a quiet street lined with aging trees. The buildings were beautifully unique, each old with detailed architecture. He walked down the street, shouldering his old leather bag, his heart beating with each click of his boots. He felt connected to this street in a way he wouldn't have over a decade ago, when he was eager to leave London, despite his love for the city. New York provided him with the time to miss London, yet refused him the move back. He still thought it did him good, after all the years.

Years ago she would have refused a neighborhood like this. He walked up the stairs at number 22 and pressed the button next to her name. A crackle came from the speaker on the side of the doorway.

"Hello?" came a voice muffled by the bad technology. Despite that, the voice sounded as familiar as his own.

"Tonks?" he replied, grinning wildly before he could stop himself. He didn't hear a reply, but a buzz indicated the door unlocked. He pushed it open and stood in the foyer not sure what to do with himself. He wondered briefly if he changed that much. Would she recognize him? Would he recognize her? For a woman who can change her appearance at will, he was still always able to know it was her. He wondered if that changed.

Coming out of the lift was a woman with a heart-shaped face, dressed in work-casual attire, with dark brown curly hair. Her eyes, brown, held something of distinct familiarity, and her smile he could have painted perfectly from memory. And he doubted himself before, his abilities to recognize his best friend of eleven years. Five years seemed to roll away and he traveled time on the spot, to a place in his past –their past—where she was young, and he was not so young, but not as old just the same. He remembered it so vividly he wondered if he ever left it.

She looked flustered, but walked calmly to where he stood in front of the door, his bag at his feet. When she was close enough, he realized his heart was in his throat, where he left it the day he left her. His eyes blurred with tears just the same. He reached out for her, feeling a different body than he remembered years ago, and he could feel moisture on her cheek against his. She touched his back gently, and then tightened her hold.

"Took you long enough," she whispered in his ear, and they shared a watery laugh. He felt her heart beating against his, as their bodies felt connected. He touched one side of her face while he kissed the other, embracing the moment as the one he was denied for so long. The reasons didn't seem to matter; he cared of the moment and all the time and distance that had come between them. The moment of their first meeting in five years shifted the meaning of who they were inside of him, and all the letters fell into place in his mind. The sadness, the desperate need for both distance and closeness, and the power of time encircled them in the moment.

He waited eleven years to fall in love with her.

888 Please review. 


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